


Permission

by Skyson



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 18:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6818827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyson/pseuds/Skyson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy and Coulson's dubious relationship finally comes to a head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Permission

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something I wrote before tonight's episode. Head canon of events after everything calms down a little.

"I can't do this." Daisy told him, stopping in the hanger bay and turning on him. He took one step more, but stopped before he got too close to her.

" _Please_ ,"

"Give me a reason, Coulson." Daisy gestured helplessly, "Give me a reason to stay." She was begging him to admit something, but he was scared and unsure. What exactly did she want him to say? He didn't even know what he was feeling, himself, he just knew - she couldn't leave. He didn't want her to leave. Not _now_ , not after they finally got her back.

"Daisy," He whispered desperately, emotion welling up. She sighed quietly, knowing he wouldn't say anything further.

"There's nothing more I can say. I'm going to pack." She told him, giving him another look before turning around again, heading through the bay doors and down the hall.

Coulson stood in the hangar bay, agents milling about as they worked on reconstructing the damage she had caused only just a couple weeks ago. So much could happen in such a short time... He dropped his gaze down to his shoes, clenching his jaw as he forced himself not to allow the tears to fall.

He felt a presence at his shoulder, but he didn't look up. He'd recognize those shoes anywhere, anyway.

"You have to stop lying to yourself, Coulson." May told him, and he only looked up at her face so she could see his frown.

"What?"

"You _know_ how you feel. Stop fighting it." May shook her head at him, clearly disappointed, and he narrowed his eyes. She continued before he could argue, "The closest thing to a daughter that you have? I don't know why the hell you keep insisting on lying to me about your feelings for her, Phil; I've given you multiple opportunities to come clean. And I'm tired of going along with it. We've just been through..." She shook her head, not having the words to explain the week they had endured. "Neither you nor her deserve to continue living in this lie."

"May, _I don't_ -"

"Yes you do, Phil. You know." May gave him a look, soft but insistent, and followed after Daisy's footsteps further into the base.

Coulson looked back down at his shoes, starting to feel out of breath. He clenched his fists at his sides, the control over his emotions waning.

"Sir?" One of the agents - he didn't look up to see who it was - approached him carefully, worried. He pushed past them, watching his own feet as he strode determinedly down the hallway, hiding his face from everyone around him.

No one needed to see the Director of SHIELD having a panic attack.

He just barely made it into the locker room, which was blissfully empty, and stumbled into the furthest corner of the room, his chest heaving. His leg still healing, his fall to the floor wasn't exactly graceful, but he was too busy trying to stop hyperventilating to care. He sat with his back against the wall, hands shaking as he pressed his palms against his thighs.

"I don't... She's just... I can't..."

Of course he _cared_ about her - he was her mentor, the one who brought her in. She looked up to him. He couldn't... _Allow_ himself to love her in that way. It wasn't what she needed; definitely not what she wanted.

**< ><><>**

Somehow, he managed to gather himself enough to make his feet work their way toward Daisy's room. He found himself standing in her doorway, watching her back as she packed things into a duffel bag on her bed.

"Don't go." He said imploringly, his throat catching. She looked over her shoulder at him, her expression pained, but resolute. "I do care about you, Daisy,"

"You've made your feelings very clear, Coulson. And I respect that, I do, I just can't stay here right now. I have to give myself some time."

"But I didn't! They weren't clear at all! They weren't even clear to - to myself!" He insisted, stepping further into her room. She hesitated, slowly setting the shirt in her hand on top of the duffel. "I thought," Coulson began slowly, shutting the door gently behind him to give them some privacy, "I thought a father was what you wanted from me."

"I did, too. At first." She admitted, turning fully toward him when she realized he had more to say.

"I cared about you, _so much_ , I didn't understand why. You were so _young_." He continued, and her eyes glistened, and he stepped closer to her, not wanting her to think he was rejecting her again. "And you told me... Time and again, you wanted a family. And, eventually, you told me that SHIELD was that family for you. I didn't... I couldn't take that away from you."

"Coulson, you _are_ family to me - you always will be - but that doesn't mean I see you as a _father_ ," Daisy pursed her lips, looked down at her feet for a moment, then looked back up at him. "None of this is your fault, Coulson. Please, I don't - I don't regret my feelings. I just...need to give myself some time to move past them. Because I don't blame you, but it still hurts - it's heartbreaking really, just to look at you. I can't help that. But time can. Time away."

His own heart was breaking, knowing that she felt that way, that he made her feel that way.

"I don't want you to move past them!" Coulson blurted, standing almost toe-to-toe with her now, but not moving to touch her in any way. Her eyebrow twitched as she looked at him in confusion. "Daisy, I - every time you have ever been in danger, it's like... Like my world was about to end. I had to do anything that was physically possible for me to do to save you, to help you. Having that thing take over your mind and turn you against us was the worst thing I have ever felt - worse than any torture I have endured, worse than when I was carving, worse..." He pursed his lips, frustrated with himself, clenching his shaking hands by his sides.

"Coulson," Daisy started carefully, and he shook his head, quieting her.

"I love you, Daisy." He said, and she dropped her head, shaking it, and he could see a tear drop land on the carpet between her feet.

"You do, in your own way, and eventually I'll be okay with that,"

" _No, Daisy_ ," Coulson interrupted her, taking her wrist in his hand, forcing her to look at him again. He rotated his jaw as he tried to find the words he wanted. "What I feel for you, is different than anything I've ever felt before. Ever. And I assumed... I assumed, because I've never had one myself, this is what a father feels for his daughter. Overwhelming compassion, empathy, the need to _protect_... The thought of living without you makes me feel like I can't breathe. And when Malick told me about Hive killing his daughter, and Malick's response to that - I saw similarities in that. It reaffirmed my assumption, but, Daisy - I wasn't seeing the whole picture. I wasn't _allowing_ myself to."

"What are you saying?" Daisy whispered, her wrist still limp in his hand. At least she wasn't pulling away from him.

"I," He made a pained expression, "I love you." He shrugged helplessly.

"Love is complicated, Coulson. There are so many different ways to love a person,"

"Yes! But," He trailed off, and she sighed, now gently pulling her arm from his grasp.

"To be blunt, Coulson, I've felt all those things about you too." She turned back toward her duffel, refolding the t-shirt and stuffing it inside the bag. "But I've also thought about kissing you. I've thought about touching you. About you touching me. Now unless you've shared some of these desires,"

"Daisy, I wouldn't _let myself_." He repeated, and she stopped what she was doing again, noticing his tone of voice. She turned back around slowly, looking at him closely.

"I don't know what you want, Coulson. Other than that you don't want me to leave, but, I can't stay here right now! You have to at least _understand_ that, I need time,"

"I want -" He stopped, looking terrified. She blinked at him, very slowly relaxing her shoulders as she picked up on his vibrations. His entire body was trembling. "I _want_ to think about...you." He whispered. She was silent for a moment.

"About kissing me?" She asked carefully, and he hesitatingly nodded. "About touching me?" She asked, slowly reaching for his hand, lifting it up between them and resting her palm against his. He allowed it to happen, allowed her to feel the vibrations under his skin. "About me touching you?" She rested her other hand against the lapel of his suit, and he sucked in a shaky breath, nodding again. He stood very, very still, and she sighed. "You've held this taboo against yourself for so long that you still think it's wrong, somehow." She realized, and he met her eyes, his own shining with unshed tears.

She lifted the hand against his chest and placed it against his cheek, forcing him to look her in directly the eyes.

"You're not my father, Coulson." She said firmly. "You never were." He nodded a little, but she kept her hand in place, squeezed the one that was holding his hand a little tighter. "Repeat it." She told him. He swallowed, licked his lips nervously.

"I'm not your father." He whispered. She stepped just a tiny bit closer to him, allowing their bodies to touch lightly. He closed his eyes.

"Say it again." She asked, lifting her chin a little.

"I'm not your father." He said a bit stronger, his eyes still closed. His hand was squeezing hers in return, and she could almost feel his heartbeat against her own chest.

"And that's _okay_." She assured him quietly, allowing him to feel her breath ghost across his face. His lips parted a little, and she resisted the urge to just lean in and kiss him immediately. "That's a _good_ thing."

"Yeah," He breathed more agreeably, and she could feel him starting to relax. She slowly guided his hand onto her hip, gentle enough that he could pull away if he wanted, but firm enough so he knew this was what she wanted.

"Can I kiss you?" She asked, and he clenched his jaw again as a wave of panic went through him. His hand tightened around her hip, though, and he didn't pull away. "Do you want me to kiss you?"

"I think so." He whispered, and she smiled.

"Coulson," She began, and he dropped his head to press his forehead against hers. Their noses brushed, but she still didn't kiss him yet. "I need you to tell me it's okay."

"I need you to kiss me." He finally said, eyes still closed, too _stuck_ to take that step himself. She thought she understood, though.

Just as gently as she had taken his other hand, she touched his left and guided it to her other hip, covering his hands with her own. She turned her head a bit, pressing her lips against his cheek for a long moment. He held his breath, then let it out slowly, and she kissed him again, at the corner of his mouth. He breathed in deeply, a little shakily, and she finally kissed his mouth, firmly but close-lipped.

They breathed together, unmoving, attached at the lips and where his hands were still holding her hips. She felt his body relax even further, and then she pulled away so she could look at him.

"Look, the world hasn't imploded or anything," She halfheartedly joked, and he licked his lips.

"It may have. A little bit." He replied, something that might have been a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"In a good way?" She asked, raising her eyebrow, and his cheeks turned a little red.

"In a good way." He agreed eventually, and she smiled. Knowing he wasn't about to bolt away like some baby deer, she slipped her hands away from his, placed one against the side of his face again. She brushed her thumb against his bottom lip.

"Can I, uh, kiss you again?" She asked.

"It might take me some getting used to," He mused, looking down where his hands were on her hips.

"So, practice?" She suggested, and he looked back into her eyes.

"Practice is good." He agreed, and she slid her hand around the back of his neck, pulling him a little so she could kiss him harder.

He opened his mouth under hers, still giving her all the control, allowing her to run her tongue against his. They kissed languidly for a while, until she found herself pressing her body against his, one of his hands pressed against her lower back and the other tangled through her hair.

They pulled apart with a bit of a gasp, catching their breaths as they stared at one another.

"That wasn't so bad. Right?" Daisy managed, and Coulson swallowed.

"Not bad." He replied, distracted, fingering the edges of her shirt. She trailed her fingers down his neck and across the knot of his tie, playing with the fabric a little. She sensed him tremble again, just a bit, but this time it wasn't quite for the same nervous feelings as before.

"You're not my father, Coulson." Daisy said again, just a hint of suggestiveness in her tone, looking him in the eyes the whole time as she slowly loosened his tie.

"I'm not your father." He agreed, more firmly than he had previously, leaning in to initiate a kiss. He smiled hesitantly against her lips as she pulled a little more insistently at his tie.

"Can I touch you?" She asked against his lips, pulling the tie from his collar with one hand while fingering the top button of his shirt. He couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips, and pressed his body more against hers. "Is that a yes?" She teased, leaning into him as well. He nodded, too busy kissing her to speak aloud.

She kissed him back, opening his shirt slowly but surely, sliding her fingertips against his skin as she revealed more and more of it. His hands found their way up under her shirt, wrapping around her waist, but he did nothing more than that. She squirmed a little against him, and then pulled her lips away so she could speak.

"Can you - can you touch me?" She requested, and he looked at her with such soft adoration, she had to stop and rest her hand against his chest over his heart.

"Are you sure?" He asked, and she took the moment to catch her breath, calm her emotions.

"I haven't been sure of a lot of things in a long time," She admitted. "I'm sure about this."

He brushed his thumbs against her skin, and then lifted up her shirt. She raised her arms so he could pull it off of her, and then after he dropped it to the floor she pushed his shirt off of his shoulders and discarded it next to hers. He released a quiet breath as he looked at her, his hands resting on her waist again as if he wasn't sure where to touch her, but he just knew that he needed to have some sort of contact.

She slid her hands down his chest, exploring muscles she had suspected were there but had never seen for herself. She then wrapped her fingers around his forearms, urging him to turn so his back was to her bed, pushing him onto the edge. With a flick of her wrist she tossed her duffel to the floor, using her other hand against his chest to push him lightly onto his back. He quickly complied, scooting back some to allow her room to climb above him, laying her body atop his as she kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as he kissed her back.

**< ><><>**

_And I had the week that came from hell_  
_And yes I know that you could tell_  
 _But you're like the net under the ledge_  
When I go flying off the edge  
You go flying off as well

 _You got something I need_  
_In this world full of people there's one killing me_  
_And if we only die once,  
I wanna die with you_

 _I know that we're not the same_  
_But I'm so damn glad that we made it  
To this time, this time, now_

_If we only live once I wanna live with you_


End file.
